The Predator (Dark Verse #1)

by RuNyx

Tristan 'The Predator' Caine.

They called him the predator. His reputation preceded him. He rarely went on the hunt but when he did, it was over. When he did, he went straight for the jugular. No distractions. No playing around. For all his unruffled attitude, the man was more lethal than the knife cutting into her thigh.

If voices could be drinks, his was a centuries-old vintage whiskey, rolling off the tongue, down the throat, leaving a trail of fire inside, making every cell in the body aware that it had been consumed.

"No one else gets to kill you, Ms. Vitalio," he spoke quietly. "The last face you see before you die will be mine. When it comes to death, you're mine."

In that moment, the man who'd claimed her death had given her a glimpse of life by doing something he probably didn't even realize he'd done.

"We've been honest so far, Ms. Vitalio," he murmured. "I'll be honest now. I despise you but I want you. Fuck it, I do. And I want you out of my system."

Me: We are done. Is my father gone? Tristan Caine: With more bruises on his face than yours.

death he was bringing her slowly, the death he would bring her one day, the death he raised in her. No. It was the life.

Tristan Caine, in motion, was beautiful. But Tristan Caine, in utter stillness, could not be described.

“I know why he hates you, Morana. Not because he confided in me. He doesn’t confide in anybody. He doesn’t let anyone even close to him. As lonely as all of us are, he’s the loneliest of us all.”

“I see how he looks at you. Despite knowing about you all my life, I never thought he’d be as he is with you.” “How is he with me?” the words escaped her softly before she could think about them. Amara didn’t look down at her, kept staring at the clouds overhead, her lips curling slightly. “Alive.”